Suits
by Velasa
Summary: You may not have known it, but Christmas is a big holiday in Japan. Even Pic gets wrapped up into it, wether he wants to or not. P-Gh fluff followed by more fluff.
1. Suits

Suits, by Velasa

* * *

A silly little drabble I came up for the contest down at PiccoloxGohan, a slash community I picked up on LJ lately. Fun place, and I got a cute fic out of the prompts. Feel free to drop by there and join us

PG for this little romantic comedy, which I need to open the air back up after posting 'Cumbersome'. As an aside, this is my first actually happy slash fanfic. Crazy, no? Well enjoy.

* * *

This is ridiculous. Completely.

"Hey, are you still in there?"

He never should have agreed to this. He doesn't like people, or suits, and he doesn't even know what these holidays are to care about them. By the gods, he doesn't know why he's doing this.

"Pic? You need some help?"

His reflection stares back at him, looking about as awkward as he feels right now. He's not suppose to be uncomfortable, he's the damn deamon king. Terror of millions. So why does the thought of a Christmas party scare the hell out of him?

The mirror doesn't answer. It just stares back at him and comments on how clumsy he looks in a suit. He tries to put the bow tie on again, but it's little more than a black mess. He curses under his breath and it echoes around the tiled room back into his sensitive ears. Of course he hears it when the door finally clicks open, he just doesn't turn because he's busy trying to get the massive knot off himself. Stupid godsdamned human clothes-

His claws are pried back from shredding the silk by much smaller, softer fingers, and the voice that accompanies them matches that contrast "Oi, don't kill it. Let me just get it for you."

The nameccian's glare redirects to the bathroom mirror as Gohan's nimble fingers make quick work of the silk ribbon. He smiles up at him. The grimace is unmoving.

"I look ridiculous."

"Nah, you look good. Really."

He knows the kid's trying his best. But it doesn't help the fact that he's going to have to leave the apartment in this. Gohan seems to narrow in on this thought subconsciously.

"You know Pic, there isn't going to be anyone we don't know there, just friends. It'll be fun."

That just brings out a grimace. "Vegeta is not a friend."

"He won't be too bad. Bulma-san won't let him."

"I doubt he'll let anyone stop him when it's this easy."

"I think you look good."

An eyeridge cocks up, and he gives him something of a look. "You're suppose to say that. You bought me this thing."

And then the kid smiles just the right way and he feels his locked footing slide out from under him. "Because you look good in it." Despite himself, he feels the lines in his face easing out. Gohan eases himself up on his tiptoes and touches his lips to his cheek, still offering that insufferable smile.

"Now, how about getting out of this bathroom and getting to that party."

Begrudgingly, he accepts his face and lets himself be pulled out. But as Gohan walks off to pull his jacket on, his eye turns off to the clock on the wall. Wait….

"Wasn't this thing at eight?"

"Yeah. So?"

"It's seven fifty two."

"…. Fifty _two_?"

He hadn't thought the kid's eyes could bug out like that. Despite all his best intentions to look annoyed he can't help laughing.


	2. penchewer

Another prompt on my little P-Gh LJ community ended up being a sorta silly sequel to Suits, so tada! Here ya go. It's not quite as cute, but I had fun with it anyway.

"I said I was sorry."

I don't understand this kid, the way he's looking at me- those eyebrows pulled together so contemplative, lip pouting out slightly. It's annoying the hell out of me. What does he want from me?

"You know... other couples don't have this kind of problem."

"Other couples don't have me in them."

There's that sweet little look that seems friendly, but the grin's got a tone behind it- "If they did, I'd probably have to knock their head in". I raise an eyeridge. This is fantastic so far.

"What the hell do you want me to do about it?" I snort, snapping the topic back to the problem at hand. He blinks at me and settles back in his chair, spinning all the way back around from facing the computer. By the gods I hate that thing- it's always buzzing faintly in the back of my ears, but he insisted on it. I made him make up for that. I wish this would fix so quickly.

Gohan chews lightly on the end of a pen- it tilts back as he looks off to the side to think, and I just want to pull the damn thing out of his mouth and swat him with it. And then just lean over him and...

No. You loose the argument if you let you mind wander off in that direction. You start thinking about his lips too much and you loose focus and then he gets you to cave in every time. It's like that damn puppyface he used as a kid, but much, much worse.

"I was thinking we could just go. It wouldn't be too bad." He smiles a little. The pen tilts off in a direction that accents it. It doesn't help my stubbornness on the issue.

"I'm not going."

"Ooooh, yes you are. We didn't go to any last year. We're going this year."

"We went to one the year before and broke a building."

"That's because -_someone_- had to pick a fight with Vegeta."

Now that's just- "There's only so much I can take from him- I warned you about that in the first place, and-"

Gohan just gets a little more of a grin. "You didn't fight him over the jokes about us. You punched him when he made a crack about the bow tie."

"... You're the one who made me wear it." is the best I can come up with. Impressive Piccolo, really.

Bare elbows lean on the bottom railing of the bed as he kicks the computer chair lightly over to where I'm sitting, and he's got that damn brilliant smile again that simultaneously makes me want to kiss him and annoys the hell out of me because he knows me so damn well. "I am. And I'm going to win this time too."

And there comes the migraine. My hands come up to my temples and press in hard- yes, there's that little throb starting to grow.

"I'm not wearing another godsdamned bow tie."

"Of course not."

"Why do I get the feeling its going to be worse than the bow tie."

A little creak issues from the chair as Gohan pushes off it, and the muscle tone in his shoulders ripples slightly as he crouches to shut his computer off before walking back over. With that stupid pen still in his mouth. And he smiles with it there and it hops up at a happy little angle again, like those big bright black eyes and the lock of hair that's always in his face even when he pulls it back. "It's really not Pic. It's not even a suit."

"Really." Somehow, I don't believe him. He seems to notice this.

"Really. I promise."

"Sure you do."

His answer is to smile at me again and walk off to the closet he insists on labeling as mine, although I want no part of the vast majority of the clothes he insists on calling mine in it. I have my gi. It's been good enough for the rest of my life, and it should be good enough now wherever I'm living..

"Gohan, I said I was sorry, but I'm not going to some human food roast,"

"Barbecue. And I'd really like if we did."

I snort at him and push off the bed, stepping around his shoes on the floor to stand behind him as he flips through the hangers. He looks back at me with that little smile again. Still eating the pen. Damn pen's driving me crazy. I'm sorely tempted to yank the thing out before he swallows it.

"I'd really like if we didn't."

The black bit of plastic flicks off to another angle as he's talking, held lightly in his teeth and it makes the soft laugh sound weird. "Pic, what the heck else is there to do on a perfectly beautiful Saturday?"

For some reason he turns around, and blinks at me with this big dumb look on his face. I mentioned he was half dressed, right? Jeans, some half-open dress shirt. Or whatever it is- normal human clothes from what I've been told. And while I don't approve of them for myself, I can't stop staring at him when he's wearing them like that.

And he continues to chew on that stupid pen, right in the soft corner of his mouth.

"Spit it out."

"What, Pic?"

"The damn pen."

Another blink, slight tilt of the head that sends the thing bobbing off into another direction as he shifts it in his teeth to talk. No idea what he said because it cuts off halfway when I crouch suddenly down to his level, pull the thing out of his face and toss it across the room. It probably hit something. But I was too busy kissing those lips to notice it. He buckles somewhat at the knees which makes me have to catch him, and makes a startled noise that peters off fairly quickly as he gives in to it.

At some point, he needs to breathe- shakily, wide eyed. Those big damn dark eyes with his hair in his face. And he finally stops talking for five minutes.

"... I could RSVP."

"Does that involve going more than five feet."

"Yes. It means letting them know we're not coming."

"How about they figure it out on their own."

"... That sounds good too."

End. 7/16/2008 5:10 AM


End file.
